


Definitely Not Jealous

by Twixen93



Series: Molly Hooper & Sherlock Holmes <3 [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Birthday Parties, F/M, Football | Soccer, Jealous Sherlock, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 19:45:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3221132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twixen93/pseuds/Twixen93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly meets Cristiano Ronaldo when getting a gift for her nephew. Sherlock pretends he isn't jealous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Definitely Not Jealous

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this sometime last year during the World Cup. I just barely found it and laughed. This was such a random thing to write about, but nevertheless I hope you like it.

* * *

It was pure coincidence that Molly met Cristiano Ronaldo.

 

It was her nephew, Mathew's 8th birthday in a few days and she had yet to pick up his gift. Her sister mentioned that he had turned into an enthusiastic football fan and would be content with anything to do with the sport. As an Aunt, it made her gift buying job much easier. Stop by a sports shop on her way home from work, select a few sports items, wrap them in some sporty wrapping paper, and become the best Aunt ever in her nephew's eyes. It was a foolproof plan.

 

What she hadn't accounted for was Sherlock tagging along. He was a nuisance without the added task of shopping.

 

“ Sherlock, I said we would meet up later. You hate shopping and I don’t want to deal with your constant complaining,” she huffed in annoyance as she continued to the shop only a few meters away.

 

“ I was bored Molly. Would you rather have me doing experiments in the flat?” Sherlock baited, knowing damn well what her answer would be. Insufferable git.

 

She stopped outside the entrance of the shop and shot him a glare. The choice between the two evils was obvious and his smug smile only confirmed to her that he knew her unvoiced choice.

 

“ You’re such a child sometimes,” she muttered under her breath before opening the glass door and walking in, Sherlock close on her heels.

 

The door closed behind them and Molly abruptly turned, stopping Sherlock before he could take another step.

 

“ If I hear one complaint from you, I’ll call Greg and tell him to ban you from all cases unless they are higher than an eight. Understand?” her warning had the desired effect because Sherlock looked affronted.

 

“ No need for threats Molly. I understand perfectly fine,” his reply was terse and bordering impatient, but she didn’t have time for his immaturity. She had a figurative best Aunt award to win.

 

She made her way to the football section of the store, traversing up and down the aisles until she reached the shelves holding the actual footballs. Somewhere along the way she lost Sherlock, but as long as he wasn’t complaining in her ear, she could care less. He most likely got distracted by the various shoe brands and their corelating quality. She snorted at the thought. 

 

Before her was a massive selection of footballs and it was slightly daunting looking at all of them with all the different colours, sizes, and brands. She was definitely out of her depth here and all the workers seemed to have disappeared. Sherlock was nowhere in sight either, but asking him was her last priority. He would make a snide comment and then probably proceed to tell her which brands were used in some type of murder that happened who knows how long ago. And she would rather not have any of those stories linked to the gift she was getting for her 7, almost 8 year old nephew.

 

She could have easily just picked a random one off the shelf and be done with it, but quality probably mattered when it came to sporting equipment. Not that she would know. All she knew was that she wanted the best for her nephew.

 

Her inner monologue was interrupted when a tanned, muscled and lean stranger came to stand beside her.

 

He was wearing a tailored grey suit, much like the ones Sherlock wore, a tight crisp button up white shirt, a thin black tie, the end reaching just to his navel, and polished black dress shoes she could clearly see her own reflection in. His dark brown, almost black hair was short on the sides and back but styled with gentle waves on the top. It seemed as if his whole body was chiseled from stone. A masterpiece Michelangelo would be proud of. Did she mention he was muscled?

 

Molly blushed at her own thoughts, swallowed instinctively, and suddenly felt very underdressed in the presence of this total stranger.

 

“ You are looking very lost,” the stranger commented in a deep, thick Portuguese accent.

 

“ Oh… um me?” Molly looked around to double check if anyone else was around her. There was no one. She was momentarily lost, wide eyed, and tongue tied. The good looking stranger was talking to her. This was a rarity. She wasn't exactly a top model commanding the eyes of all the guys and drawing their attention.

 

“ Yes you,” he laughed and her blush deepened, “ are you having problems choosing? I can maybe help.”

 

His voice was so distracting that it took her a moment to realize he was referring to the footballs.

 

“ I’d really appreciate it…” she broke off slowly realizing she had no clue what his name was.

 

“ My name is Cristiano,” he motioned to himself, answering her silent question.

 

“ Nice to meet you Cristiano,” she tested his name before introducing herself. “ I'm Molly.”

 

“ A beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” he flashed her a smile, his teeth unnaturally white, but perfect nonetheless.

 

Her brain shorted out at the fact that this gorgeous being, who really had no reason in the world to talk to her, just called her “ beautiful.” She blushed.

 

He started pulling a few of the footballs off the shelves. “ Are you purchasing one for yourself or maybe for someone else?”

 

“ It's for my nephew. He's... uh... he's turning 8,” she answered, getting distracted by his suit tighteing around his muscular arms as he reached for footballs on a top shelf.

 

Was it just her or was it getting hot in there?

 

“ I recommend these ones. They are, how you say, good quality and will last a longer time than the others,” he pointed to the ones he had chosen. A red, white, and black football remained in his hands.

 

His words snapped her out of ogling and she felt heat fill her cheeks. She was a grown woman for goodness sakes, not a hormonal teenager. It was clear she had been caught, but Cristiano wisely remained quiet. The only indication of his acknowledgment was the amused look he displayed.

 

“ Uh… yes. Thank you,” she said as she carefully considered the options. He nodded in agreement as she chose the one from his hands.

 

“ Good choice,” he winked at her while replacing the other options back where he found them. Molly was again treated to the sight of his clothing stretched taut against his toned body as he extended to reach the shelf.

 

The sound of someone clearing their throat caused Molly to blush as yet again she was caught staring. She felt Sherlock’s familiar presence before she even saw him. He walked up to stand behind her, unusually close.

 

Sherlock and Cristiano eyed each other in silence as if determining their threat levels to each other. Typical male behaviour. Molly could see the deductions forming in Sherlock’s head. He could probably already say what he had for breakfast, how much he weighed, his shoe size… The quiet was bordering on uncomfortable when Molly broke it to introduce her new acquaintance.

 

“ Sherlock this is-“

 

“ Cristiano Ronaldo, presently forward for Real Madrid, formerly forward for Manchester United. Your reputation as an elite athlete precedes you,” Sherlock finished her sentence with surety, leaving her clueless and confused.

 

“ You are too kind,” Cristiano smiled as he offered his hand to Sherlock who took it with a strong hand shake.

 

“ You’re a… a professional footballer?” Molly asked, too stunned to even comment on the way Sherlock’s hand had suddenly migrated to the small of her back.

 

“ I am,” he laughed at her sudden speechlessness.

 

“ I’m sorry. I had no idea,” she nervously laughed her apology, suddenly feeling as though she should be asking him for an autograph or begging for a picture or kissing his feet. You know, the things fans usually did when they met a famous athlete.

 

“ No apologies. It is nice to be not recognized sometimes,” he responded as he grabbed a similar football to the one Molly was holding.

 

Sherlock flinched minutely at Cristiano’s poor sentence structure, but one look from Molly and he wisely kept his prepared berating comment back. Molly’s previous threat still hanging over him and keeping him in line.

 

“ Paizinho?” a young boy, who shared a striking resemblance to Cristiano called from the other end of the aisle, drawing everyone’s attention.

 

“ Um minuto Cristiano,” he called to the boy waiting.

 

“ You mustn’t keep your son waiting,” Sherlock didn’t miss a beat with his insistence.

 

Molly pretended she didn’t hear the underlying haste to his words.

 

“ Thank you for your help, Cristiano. It was nice meeting you,” Molly gave him a genuine smile and this time offered her hand to him.

 

“ Same to you Molly,” he took her hand, but not for a handshake. Instead, he pressed an innocent kiss to the top of her hand just above her middle knuckle.

 

Her blush reappeared as he dropped her hand and nodded to Sherlock before turning and walking towards his son. Cristiano paid for the football and disappeared out the door with his son in tow. Only after he had gone did Molly realize how tense Sherlock’s body had become.

 

“ He was flirting with you,” Sherlock emphasized “flirting” as if it was an expletive. Only he could make something so innocent sound like the most scandalous thing to ever exist.

 

“ That was not flirting Sherlock, that was being a gentleman,” Molly half mocked his tone as she made her way to the cashier.

 

“ There are many other ways to be a gentleman,” he huffed in annoyance at the thought of Cristiano’s lips on his pathologist.

 

The cashier was distracted with a rerun football game on the telly. Molly set the football down on the counter, drawing his attention and rummaged around in her bag for cash to pay.

 

“ Ronaldo played his heart out,” the cashier remarked as he turned away from the telly to assist them.

 

Sherlock slipped his card across the counter while Molly continued to search through her bag.

 

“ Actually sir, Mr. Ronaldo paid for your items,” the cashier slid the card back to Sherlock who clenched his fist around it and thrust it forcefully into his pocket.

 

“ He what?” Molly stopped what she was doing and looked at the cashier with disbelief.

 

“ Nice guy. He paid for your items,” he nodded and put the football in a bag. “ Oh, and he also left you this.” The cashier held a white envelope out to her and she took it with uncertainty. Curiosity got the better of her and she opened it right at the counter. Inside lay two tickets to a Real Madrid football game.

 

She stood there with the tickets in her hand, mouth slightly open in disbelief, and Sherlock silently seething beside her. The cashiers impressed whistle snapped her back into focus.

 

“ Must have made a lasting impression on Mr. Ronaldo,” he commented and handed her the bag with the football in it. “ You two have a good day now.”

 

Sherlock ushered her out of the shop, remaining quiet, and they started on their way back to Baker Street.

 

“ That was really nice of him to give me the tickets. Mathew will be ecstatic!” Molly ventured after Sherlock had remain tight lipped for the duration of their walk.

 

“ Yes, ecstatic over tickets to a football game. Just what an 8 year old wants,” he sniffed and looked straight ahead.

 

Molly bit her lip to conceal a smile. He was trying too hard to conceal his true feelings and Molly could see right through his act.

 

“ You wouldn't be jealous now, would you?” she struggled to remain straight faced as she asked her question.

 

“ I am in no way threatened by Cristiano Ronaldo,” Sherlock defended with a scowl.

 

Molly laughed. Of course he wasn't.

 

* * *

 

Gift wrapping littered the floor, torn, and thrown haphazardly to the side. Mathew sat in the midst of it all, beaming at the gifts he had received. He picked up the last one, an unsure smile on his face as he turned it over in his hand.

 

Sherlock had given him a white envelope. It was nothing special and would have been easily brushed off if Molly hadn't convinced him to open it.

 

Mathew was prepared to smile begrudgingly at a useless card with boring words, but was taken by surprise at the contents. Inside was not a card. It was something he was far from expecting.

 

A pass to watch a closed practice for Manchester United with the added opportunity to meet the team.

 

The other adults in the room watched with amusement as Mathew attack hugged Sherlock. The unexpected sentiment catching him off gaurd.

 

“ Thank you thank you thank you thank you,” Mathew repeated before finally releasing Sherlock.

 

“ You're welcome,” Sherlock said simply as Mathew ran to his father to share the excitement.

 

Molly smiled inwardly knowing what Sherlock did to obtain the pass. He bravely endured through a conversation with Mycroft, with almost no complaining, and even promised to do a few cases in exchange. It seemed a lot of trouble for someone who claimed he wasn't jealous.

 

No, Sherlock Holmes was certainly not jealous of Cristiano Ronaldo.

 

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Definitely feel free to comment! I'm interested to see what you think of this randomness.


End file.
